


Shaken, Not Stirred

by brooksey



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Prompt Fic, Tuxedos, Undercover Missions, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooksey/pseuds/brooksey
Summary: Shepard and Thane must complete a mission at a fancy dress party — and Thane’s outfit is very fancy indeed.
Relationships: Thane Krios/Female Shepard, Thane Krios/Shepard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nea72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nea72/gifts).



> Written for a prompt idea from Nea72 that revolved around pre-relationship Shepard and Thane on a mission at a fancy dress party similar to Kasumi's loyalty mission in ME2. Once the idea of Thane in a tuxedo came up, there was no going back. :D

_Damn these heels_ , Shepard thought irritably. 

This sort of party always meant high heels, and she _hated_ wearing heels. They were painful, they were impractical, and Shepard was convinced that at some point they would be the death of her — literally.

But she got a sharp poke in the side when she tried to step out of them. “Hey,” Kasumi chided, “get back in those shoes. You’re not wearing flats to a black-tie event.”

Grudgingly, Shepard slid her feet into the strappy silver heels and promised herself she’d get back at Kasumi later. She looked in the mirror, critically examining her reflection. There hadn’t been much to do to get ready, really. Her chin-length hair didn’t lend itself well to a formal style, and she’d drawn the line at more than a touch of makeup.

But the outfit — Miranda had picked out a dress of emerald green silk that plunged in a dangerously deep V in front, and had very little back. It clung to every curve she had, flared a bit beneath her hips and then fell below the knee. The first choice had been a floor-length body-hugging affair that Shepard had immediately vetoed. This one, at least, she’d be able to move in, and the color matched perfectly with Thane himself — probably intentional on Miranda’s part. Still—

“I don’t know. Are you sure this dress… works?”

Kasumi somehow managed to roll her eyes even from beneath her hood. “Face it, Shep. You’re a knockout. Thane won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered in retort. But the truth was that Kasumi’s comment had instantly given her butterflies. It had been a little while now since she had developed feelings — strong feelings, even — for Thane, but so far their chats hadn’t gone beyond friendly. He always seemed happy to see her, but that didn’t exactly prove anything one way or the other. 

As badly as she wanted it to be true, she tried not to hold out hope that he was feeling the same way about her. Obviously the effort wasn’t entirely successful — the mere suggestion that he might think of her as more than a friend was enough by itself to twist her stomach into knots and make her whole body hum with excitement.

“What? It’s true.” Kasumi tucked a tiny data stick into a hidden pocket in the back of the dress below Shepard’s waist. After one last review of the whole look, Kasumi finally declared her ready.

“Want to go over it one more time?” Shepard asked.

“You and Thane go to the party and mingle while I get into the control room,” Kasumi recited. “When I have the alarms disabled, you head to the office on the top floor. Once you’re there, Thane’s your muscle; he’ll keep an eye out while you get the data stick plugged in.”

“And this thing will just do… whatever it’s supposed to do?”

“Yep. The program will install itself. Data should start transmitting right away, so we’ll know when it’s working. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes.”

Shepard nodded. “All right, let’s do this thing.”

They went to the elevator, the accursed heels clacking all the way, and took it down to the crew deck. When they arrived, they found Miranda and Garrus already there waiting. The second Garrus looked up and saw her, a wide grin split his face. He opened his mouth, presumably to make a smart-ass comment, only to be cut off by a severe look from Shepard.

“One word,” she warned him, “and you’re never making the ground team again.”

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Shepard was sure he’d say something anyway, but then both his and Miranda’s attention was drawn to something behind her. She turned around to see what, and…

 _Oh my._ There stood Thane, and apparently Miranda had chosen a tuxedo in a classic Earth style for him tonight — black slacks and jacket with a crisp white shirt, all perfectly tailored to show off his physique. He wore a vest beneath the jacket, too, black with an intricate pattern embroidered in deep green to complement her dress. Miranda had even got him into a bow tie.

Shepard knew she was staring, struck dumb by the sight of him, but she couldn’t stop herself. Besides the fact that it was Thane — who was attractive enough to be worth staring at under any circumstance — she also happened to have a particular weakness for men in tuxedos. She was so caught up that she didn’t even notice no one else was saying anything either, not until Garrus broke the silence with a low whistle.

“Not bad, Krios,” he said with approval. “You know, you aren’t exactly my type — no offense,” and Thane nodded good-naturedly, “—but I have to say, this is working even for me.”

Thane smiled at that, then stepped up next to Shepard. He looked at her and turned his palms up as if to say _what do you think?_

She would have been more than happy to tell him what she thought if it weren’t for the fact that she wasn’t capable of thinking just then. It felt like her brain was running at top speed and stuck in the mud at the same time. Her eyes raked over him, taking him in — the broad shoulders, his powerful arms that weren’t quite hidden by the formalwear, the way his vest accentuated the taper of his waist, his— 

She snapped her arm back at the last second from where she had unconsciously reached out, only a hair’s breadth from laying her hand on his chest. Garrus chuckled behind her; she blinked and shook herself, feeling her cheeks flush.

At that moment, Shepard was saved by the swish of a door opening. Ken Donnelly walked in from Engineering, and the second he saw Thane he struck a pose, one index finger extended as though it were a pistol.

“Bond. Thane Bond,” he intoned.

Kasumi, Miranda, and Shepard all laughed, while Garrus tilted his head quizzically. Shepard was about to fill him in when, to her surprise, Thane did it for her.

“EDI was kind enough to share the reference,” he explained. “Kenneth is speaking of James Bond, a suave and handsome intelligence agent from Earth vids of the 20th century. Bond was a skilled assassin, an expert with weapons and with... well.”

Thane paused, and there was no mistaking the look he gave Shepard, suggestive and intense. “He was, let us say… a ladies’ man.”

“Sounds about right,” Garrus deadpanned, the smirk clear in his tone. 

Kasumi, who was directly behind her, stifled a laugh. There were any number of things Shepard would have liked to do right then — for example, skewer Kasumi’s foot with the heel of her shoe, or vanish into thin air. What she _actually_ did was close her eyes with a sigh, take a moment to collect herself as best she could, and square her shoulders. 

“Ready?”

The corner of Thane’s mouth quirked up. He held out his arm — apparently EDI had educated him on the gentlemanly manners of 20th century Earth, too. “Shall we?”

She couldn’t help smiling at that, and slipped her arm through his. They walked to the elevator, Miranda going over a few last things.

“Kasumi will be right behind you; Joker will be lead on comms. The rest of us will be monitoring and jump in when we need to. Good luck.”

The elevator door swished shut, taking them down to the shuttle bay. Just before the doors opened again, Thane leaned in close. She shivered slightly, nervous and excited — his lips were practically brushing her ear, and she could feel his breath on her neck.

“In case I don’t get the chance to say so later… you look gorgeous, Shepard.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thane got out of the shuttle and offered Shepard his hand. These gestures seemed to please her, and he couldn’t deny that he made them in part to keep getting that smile from her that always made his heart skip a beat. This time was no exception; she smiled shyly when she took his hand just as he’d hoped she would. 

The guards at the front entrance waved them through without a second glance — apparently their invitations were worth what they’d cost. By the time they reached the bar, they heard Kasumi’s voice in their ears, tinny and distorted.

“I’m in. You should have the surveillance feeds,” she said, and both Joker and Miranda confirmed that the Normandy now had audio and video for the entire mansion. “Working on the alarms now.”

Thane looked at Shepard, eyebrows raised. “That was fast.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Maybe this is the one time we’ll get through a mission without everything going pear-shaped. We can hope, anyway. But in the meantime… I’ll get the drinks.”

Shepard walked off, threading her way through the crowd, and Thane didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was watching her go. She was even more stunning than usual tonight, thanks in part to the dress she wore. Extremely flattering, it emphasized her athletic figure, and the color somehow brightened her; she looked like she was glowing from the inside out. Her already shapely legs looked even longer with the high heels on her shoes. 

Only when she had disappeared behind some partygoers did he tear his eyes away, and he felt somewhat guilty for admiring her so openly. He’d sworn himself to her when he’d joined her cause, first his skills and his body and now, if he was being honest with himself, his soul as well. But she was an excellent commanding officer who cared about everyone on her crew; it was perhaps self-centered to think that he was somehow special to her simply because she’d shown an interest in him. 

Not only that, she was _his_ commanding officer. He knew that sort of relationship was considered inappropriate within the Alliance — and for all he knew, she shared that position. The last thing he wanted was to put her in an uncomfortable spot.

But then she was back, and all his concerns were driven from his mind along with any other thoughts that weren’t _her_. Dangerous, really, and he forced himself to focus. Not doing so could get either or both of them hurt, or worse. When she finally reached his side, she handed him — of course — a martini.

“Shaken, not stirred,” she smiled, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I had to.”

Thane chuckled and took a sip of the cocktail; it tasted strange to him, but not in a bad way. He spotted a man approaching them over the rim of his glass at the same time Joker sounded a warning over the comlink. Thane was instantly on alert. “Vaughn is coming.”

Alden Vaughn, the host of this party and the man whose computer they’d been sent here to hack into, strolled right up to Shepard and introduced himself. With a slight bow and a clichéd compliment, he asked her for a dance. Her eyes locked with Thane’s for a moment, but they both knew she could not decline. As their host _and_ their target, they couldn't afford to offend him or raise any suspicion. 

“I’d love to,” she replied, and Thane nodded imperceptibly to her as she went: _I’ll be right here._

At first, as they turned slowly on the dance floor, Thane leaned up against the bar drinking his martini, unconcerned. He was careful to keep his eye on them only casually — it wouldn’t do to stare, and gods knew Shepard could handle herself. But the longer the dance went on, the harder it was for him to look away.

Joker swore blackly in his ear. “Are you seeing this?”

Thane was, in fact, seeing it. Vaughn’s meaty hand, which had started on Shepard’s upper back, was making its way down, questing towards her waistline and who knew where else. It was obvious to him even at this distance that Shepard was tense and uncomfortable. Joker and Kasumi were speaking urgently about Vaughn finding the data stick and _Thane, get out there_ , but Thane was barely hearing them. Every last nerve was on edge now, and it had very little to do with the mission.

He finished the last of his drink and strode purposefully onto the dance floor. Luckily, when EDI had briefed him on etiquette for this sort of function, he’d paid attention. He walked up and looked directly at the man, making his intent clear even though he used an ingratiating tone.

“May I cut in?”

Anger flashed in Vaughn’s eyes and he went very still. Thane was just starting to think it might actually come to a confrontation when Vaughn finally decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He backed away from Shepard and gave them another bow, stiff and irritated this time, then turned on his heel and left. Thane took her in his arms and they began to dance. 

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Of course. You have the data stick?” 

Shepard nodded. His lips twitched, amused. He made a show of looking her up and down with an expression of disbelief. “...where?”

She blushed again, and gods, how he loved that. As if she weren’t beautiful enough already, the way she looked with color in her cheeks took his breath away. She bit the corner of her lip, and tilted her head over her shoulder. 

“It’s, ah... back there.”

He arched a brow. He wasn’t sure how she could possibly be hiding it behind her back in that dress. But then he felt her left arm resting on top of his right, pressing down and guiding his hand. 

Fingers ghosting over her back, he trailed them down, tracing a pattern as he went. She shivered and he paused, thinking he ought to stop — but she surprised him by moving in closer. Her arm was still nudging his downward, and the truth was he didn't _want_ to stop, so... he didn’t.

Further, then: taking his time, he savored how smooth her skin was under his hand, how soft, not what he might have expected from a soldier who’d been through as much as she had. He made her shiver again when he dragged a fingernail ever so lightly up her spine, and she exhaled sharply.

Finally his palm was splayed across the small of her back. There was the data stick, safe and sound — but Thane had forgotten it by then anyway. He’d forgotten the data stick, forgotten Kasumi and the alarms, forgotten everyone around them. At that point, the only thing he was aware of was Shepard.

He pulled her in and she came eagerly, and suddenly they were pressed up against each other. Her head turned inward, resting on his shoulder. Her scent, familiar and yet heavenly all the same, was in every breath he took. 

Thane brought her hand in and held it tight to his chest, right over his pounding heart, as they danced. He lost track of how long they stayed like that, swaying slowly under the twinkling lights strung above them, Shepard nuzzled into his neck and his head resting against hers. 

Dancing with her, feeling her next to him, holding her — it was all intoxicating, _she_ was intoxicating, and he was about to lose himself to it completely, mission or no mission—

“Bleedin’ Christ. Get a room, you two,” growled a voice over the comms, and they both jumped. Zaeed.

Shepard pulled back a bit; she had turned bright red this time. Thane gave her a smile and got one in return that was equal parts bashful and exasperated. With a visible effort, she pulled herself together. “Kasumi, report.”

“Hmm?” Kasumi was obviously highly amused.

“Where are we with the alarms?”

“Oh, the alarms. They’ve been disabled for a while now. You were having such a good time! I didn’t want to spoil it.” The woman’s grin was easily heard over the audio, and Thane could hear snickering in the background — Joker, he thought, and maybe Garrus.

Shepard closed her eyes and appeared to be gathering her patience, but she was still smiling. “All right, back stairs?” He took her hand in his and they started making their way off the dance floor.

“Back stairs and wait for my mark,” Joker confirmed. “And try not to get too distracted this time, willya?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Say again, Joker?”

“I said, _stop_ ,” Joker emphasized. Shepard backed away from the door and retreated into the stairwell. “There’s a lot more security than there was supposed to be. You open that door and you’re walking into a death trap.”

Garrus chimed in next. “He’s right. You’ll have to go the other way… _damn_.” Thane and Shepard exchanged a glance, hearing nothing muffled conversation over their comms for a time.

“Plan B is no good either. Spirits, where did these guys _come_ from? ...you’ll have to use the terrace, it’s the only option. On your left.”

The terrace they stepped onto could only barely be called such. Clearly not meant to be used, it had a thick railing of polished wood that wasn’t even as high as Shepard's hip. Though wide enough that they could walk comfortably, they had to go single file.

Joker’s voice was back once they got outside. “It looks like there are only two guards out there doing rounds. You’re right in between them now, so you’d better move.”

Shepard in the lead, trying her best to minimize the tapping of her heels, they hustled to the corner and rounded it on Joker’s signal. She chanced a look over the railing as they headed for the fourth window; it was easily three stories down or more. When they reached their target, she pulled on the sash — locked.

“Kasumi!” she whispered vehemently, even as she heard Joker shouting at the thief to get the damn window unlocked already. Shepard tried it again: still no luck. She could see an indicator light on the other side of the glass, glowing stubbornly red.

“Thane. One of them is about to come around the corner behind you. Get ready.” That was Garrus. She felt Thane tense, a coiled snake ready to strike, and Shepard flared her biotics. Suddenly, she heard a double beep — the light was green. 

Throwing open the window, she dove inside with Thane right behind her. She scrambled over to the desk and ducked, but there was no time to close the window without being heard, so Thane pressed himself against the wall right next to it and waited.

Sure enough, when the guard reached them he stuck his head inside, at which point Thane grabbed him by the neck and pulled him through. After a minute, the guard slumped and Thane let go, lowering his limp body to the floor. 

Shepard stood up from her crouch behind the desk. “Dead?”

Thane shook his head. “Unconscious. It won’t be long before he’s missed. We need to hurry.”

She slipped the data stick from its pocket in her dress and opened Vaughn’s laptop, the screen flaring to life. Once it was plugged in, text began flashing across the screen, far too fast for her to read. Kasumi began murmuring to herself over the comlink.

“Installing… done, data should be transmitting… now. Miranda, you receiving?”

“No,” came the answer.

“No?” Shepard and Kasumi asked together. “Hang tight, Shep,” Kasumi went on, “we’ll get this working.”

Shepard waited and listened to the two of them work on the problem. It felt like it was taking an eternity, and she was getting more and more anxious about how much time was ticking by, expecting the doors behind her to fly open at any second—

“Get down.” It wasn’t a suggestion — Thane was giving an order, and on instinct alone she flattened herself to the floor immediately.

The second terrace guard had made it to their window and, equally curious as his fellow, ducked his head inside. Thane pulled this one into the room and knocked him out in the same way.

“There may be far too many of them, but at least they aren’t all that sharp,” Thane remarked. Shepard choked out a laugh in agreement. A moment later, word came over the comms that the data transmission had finally gone through.

Shepard yanked the stick out of the laptop and slapped the lid shut. Taking care of the guards on the terrace may have made their return trip easier, but alarms would be raised any second now when someone noticed their absence, and there was no time to waste.

They climbed out the window and went back the way they’d come, Thane in front this time. Right before they reached the corner, he stopped short and she nearly ran into him from behind. A third guard was just in front of them, who presumably had found the open window in the stairwell and decided to investigate. In only a fraction of a second, he’d see them. 

Thane’s arm snapped out and grabbed him, using the same chokehold he’d used on the other two. He spun, his back to the railing, the guard in front of him clutching at Thane's arm around his neck. 

A second before this guard joined his squadmates in unconsciousness, he kicked out his feet. One of them hooked Shepard around the ankle and pulled her off balance.

She stumbled sideways towards the open air, foot landing next to the edge of the terrace, and on any other mission, that would have been the end of it. On any other mission, she would have been able to adjust easily and stay on solid footing. 

But on this mission, she was wearing high heels. 

Shepard’s ankle rolled when her shoe proved too unstable to support her. She fell to her left, banging her leg on the rail and continuing over the side. She scrabbled, trying to get a grip on the wooden beam, but it was so wide and polished so smooth that her hands slipped right off. 

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She had time to recall the drop she’d seen earlier and think that it was only a few stories, with her Cerberus-enhanced body she would _probably_ survive, but then what? Surely she wouldn’t go unnoticed, and if she was hurt badly enough—

A hand clapped against hers and she gripped back automatically. Miraculously, she found herself dangling in the air rather than plummeting to the ground, and looked up. 

Thane was bent over the railing, his legs and one arm braced against it; his lightning-fast reflexes had been just fast enough. His face stayed neutral, but she could see muscles straining underneath his tuxedo as he pulled her up one-handed with an impressive feat of strength.

He hoisted her over the railing, and almost before her feet were back on the ground she was wrapped tightly in his arms. One hand cradled the back of her head as he breathed a sigh of relief, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. Before either of them had had time to slow their breathing back to normal they heard Joker’s voice, shaky and sounding like he himself had just dodged a bullet.

“Uh, guys? Not to interrupt, but get the hell out of there. They know something’s up. They’ll be in Vaughn’s office any minute; you need to get back downstairs.”

Shepard sighed heavily as they disengaged. “Did I say something before about this being the one mission that doesn’t go sideways? Remind me not to do that again.”

It wasn’t until she’d taken a step that she realized something was off. One of her feet was bare, resting flat on the cold stone. She’d lost one of her heels, and peeking carefully over the railing, she saw silver glinting three stories below on top of a manicured hedge.

She pulled off the other hated shoe and dropped it over the side to join its twin. “I knew these things would kill me eventually. Never again,” she vowed.

Thane smiled wryly, clearly in agreement, and they turned to leave. As they continued down the terrace, his hand reached back and she took it immediately. For safety’s sake, maybe, or maybe it was just to reassure them both that she was still there.

Through the window and down the back stairs, they only stopped rushing after Joker’s reminder to _slow down, guys — act natural, remember?_ Shepard noted security guards huddled together against the walls, conferring, then moving swiftly towards the elevator. She forced herself to slow down and felt Thane doing the same.

They walked back through the party at a pace that felt like a crawl. Shepard prayed no one would notice her bare feet. They passed the dance floor, then the bar, then entered the main hall. She could see the front doors a short distance away, the last thing between them and safety—

“ _Shepard,_ ” Thane whispered urgently, grasping her wrist and pulling her to the side. She was immediately scanning for the threat even as they slipped behind a long decorative curtain that had been hung in the mansion’s cavernous foyer.

She was still wondering what had spooked him when he kissed her. One strong hand cupped her jaw, his kisses gentle but with heat behind them. It only took her a split second to catch up before she was kissing him back. 

She slipped her hands under his jacket and up his back to get closer to him; he responded with an arm around her waist that pulled her in just as tightly. His hand left her jaw and instead wound into her hair. Heat pooled in her stomach, then coursed through her whole body when his lips pressed harder into hers, the kiss growing deeper and more intense by the second.

By the time she pulled back simply to come up for air, Shepard was lightheaded and weak in the knees. She tucked her head under Thane’s chin, taking a slow, deep breath and listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest at a pace to match her own.

When she had finally recovered enough to look up, Thane rested his forehead against hers. “Sorry,” he murmured with a smile, “I had to.” 

Shepard grinned, not sure whether it was because he had echoed her earlier words or just because of _him_. She leaned in, lips seeking his for more, and was suddenly reminded that though they were out of sight, they were not alone.

“For fuck’s sake.” Zaeed again. “Behind a curtain, Krios? And here I had you figured for a romantic. I’d have thought you could show a girl a better time than _that_.”

Everyone laughed out loud over the comms at that including Shepard and Thane, who shared a quiet chuckle. She felt another twist of heat in her belly when Thane gave her one last soft kiss before taking her hand and stepping back out into the foyer.

“So I can, Zaeed,” Thane replied, giving Shepard a meaningful look, one that sent her heart racing all over again and stole the breath from her lungs. “And so I will.”


End file.
